


Pinot Noir

by lancecorporal



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Angst, College, Dark Past, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Male Escort, Oral Sex, Past Sexual Abuse, Prostitution, University, Whore and User
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:51:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2349044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lancecorporal/pseuds/lancecorporal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I…can’t tell you the reason," he lowly says, a frown marring the beautiful feature and Allen holds back a chuckle.<br/>"With $500, I could make you forget your problem, whatever it is, for an hour."<br/>"Fine."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pinot Noir

**Author's Note:**

> So this story has actually been published on fuckyeahindoship.tumblr.com for another fandom. But I found this story intriguing for some reasons, and I feel like there's more to explore. That's why I decided to publish it here after replacing the characters with original ones, as a practice for my writing.

Allen runs his fingers through his messy jet black hair as he walks out of the dean’s room with a smirk on his face and a brown folder in his arm. He ignores people’s stare, opting to light a cigarette instead as he makes his way to the elevator. He knows his disheveled state only fueled people’s suspicion, can hear them gossiping about what he had done with the newly divorced female lecturer's office after spending more than an hour in there. _As if the moans weren’t enough clue_ , he mused as he steps inside the elevator. _And it’s not like they don’t know who I am or what I do for a living_.

Glancing at the mirror, he merely shake his head to get rid of the fallen locks that obscured his eyes, and caught a small movement from the two girls that he share the elevator with. They’re ogling him, Allen realizes with an amused smirk, for their stares are fixated on his exposed broad chest.

"Liking what you see?" he asks in a low voice, making them blush. Then he leans in and whispers, "Mind buttoning them up for me?"

One of them squeals and looks like she's going to faint, but nods and extends her shaky hand to buttons his shirt up. Meanwhile, her friend is shell-shocked and can only stares with mouth agape.

"Thanks darling," Allen grins, sneaking a quick peck on her cheek before waltzing out of the elevator into his class room.

Once he open the door, the room went silent and all eyes falls on him as he walks to the lecturer's desk and sits on it, lazily putting his feet on the table. Wordlessly, he throws the folder that he's been carrying to the desk.

"Is that…our mid-term papers?" one of his classmate asks, and Allen nods while taking a cigarette out.

"And…the marks?" asks another one, a timid looking girl who cowers upon Allen's glance.

"As expected, I got an A, " Allen nonchalantly says. "But you guys...." With a chesire cat like grins, he adds, "Owe me $450."

It took a moment before they register what Allen means, and once it does they all hurriedly get to the folder, trying to find their own exam papers and confirming Allen's words.

"Fuck," Thomas, the class leader, says in amazement. "The lowest score is A-. You’re crazy, Len, the witch usually only give B- at most.”

“Well they don’t have me in that class,” Allen retorts. "So pay up."

Thomas nods, taking out an envelope from his bag and handing it over to Allen, who barely glances at it before stuffing it inside his bag. "I'll take my leave then."

"You’re not going to stay for class?"

Allen just laughs at Thomas’s surprised expression. "What class? I wore her out."

 

***

 

He walks down the aisle, scanning the books with half interest when someone unfamiliar approaches him.

"Allen-san."

He glances at the young looking Japanese man in a grey suit, racking his brain for this stranger's identity. He certainly look wealthy enough, the Armani suit and Tag Heuer watch can testify to that. But Allen’s quite sure he never seen him before, for he would certainly remember that unique heart-shaped face and the silky black hair that framed the face. Not his type, though. "Yes?"

"I'm here to ask for your service."

Ah, a new client then. "Mind if I ask how do you know about my service?" The man shifts uncomfortably, and he adds, "I need to do a little background search for every new clients, especially one who just come out of the blue like you."

"I... Know about you from a colleague, Kenichi-san," he admits, and Allen nods, remembering the middle aged men as one of his first clients. Kenichi’s connection was one of the reason why he could quickly rose to be one of the most sought after companions.

"And you are?"

"Is it really important?"

"Depends on whether you're planning to be a regular or not. And whether you're the kind that likes to hear your name being screamed out or not."

A chuckle escapes the Japanese man's mouth. "You're as quick witted and blunt as Kenichi-san said, but I guess that's your charm. My name is Ryuhei, and yes, I'd like to hear you scream my name out. As for being a regular... I guess we shall see, no?"

Allen smirks, "We shall. Did Kenichi-san tell you about my fee?"

"$500 per hour, am I right?"

"You are," Allen slings his bag over his shoulder. "Lead the way, Ryuhei-san."

He soon found himself in the bathroom, Ryuhei pushing him against the wall with lips colliding against each other. Ryuhei is impatient, Allen can tell, for he goes straight on undoing Allen's pants without permission - not that he needed one. Complying, he slides one hand around Ryuhei's neck while work on his pants with the other one. He quickly slides his hand inside, massaging Ryuhei's hardening cock. Ryuhei pulls back for air, and Allen utilizes the time to drags him to the nearest stall, where he discards both of their pants and boxers right away.

Ryuhei throws his head back when Allen got him pinned against the door, fingers wrapped around the Japanese man's weeping erection with mouth laced on the inviting neck. Kenichi does warned him that despite being a part of the service, Allen rarely bottomed, but he dismissed it with the thought that he would be able to handle the younger male. And yet.

He's mewling with each of Allen's ministrations, the way his fingers expertly treat his hard on, the harsh grip on his hair as he tilts his head up so he can sucks on his collarbone, or the low whispers of his name that Allen keeps repeating over and over again in his ear. Never before he thought that being manhandled like this will turns him on to no end, and the new sensations got him caving into Allen's hand.

"Shall I prepare you now, Ryuhei-san?" Allen seductively asks, but Ryuhei knows it's just pretense for the younger male had his fingers poised near his opening already.

"Yes," Ryuhei manages to pants, reaching for Allen's neck to kiss him down as Allen probes him with his talented fingers. "Ahh... ch.chikuso--" he moans, liking how Allen easily caught on his impatient nature and spare time merely enough to stretches him with all four fingers before moving them in search of his prostate right away.

"Ready?" Allen asks, and Ryuhei was so disoriented he doesn’t realize when did the escort pull back to put on a condom. Not that he mind, safety is important, after all.

"Yes," he breathes out. "Get on with it already."

"Your wish is my command, Ryuhei-san."

"Kuso Yarou!!!" Ryuhei curses out, tightening his grip on Allen's shoulder when he forced himself in with one ferocious thrust, barely waiting before moving. He can't stop cursing, but he can't deny that being fucked like this feels so good, that it brought him pleasure like he never felt before. Allen pushes him closer to the edge with each driven thrust, and he still remembers to pay attention to Ryuhei's cock, jerking it off in the same rhythm.

"Do you want me to come inside you, Ryuhei-san?"

Ryuhei doesn't even need to think twice before nodding, making Allen fasten the pace of both his thrusts and his strokes. And Ryuhei swear that nothing would ever sounds better than the hoarse moans of his name that Allen let out as he come at the same time with Ryuhei, who moans Allen's name in returns.

As Ryuhei catches his breathe, Allen quickly works on cleaning and he got both of them up and presentable in no time.

"Right on time," he whistles, and Ryuhei vaguely realizes that he only reserved the younger male for one hour. Still working on catching his breath, Ryuhei take out an envelope from his breast pocket and hand it over to Allen, who smirk instantly.

"Thank you very much for the pleasurable time, Ryuhei-san. Shall I expect to see you again?"

"You shall," Ryuhei says once he finally manages to recollect himself. "Today I'm only here for a lecture, but I suppose you could make a few trips to the Japanese Embassy?"

"As long as you don't mind covering the fee, or better yet, prepared the accommodation needed." Allen smirks, "I'll see you soon, Ryuhei-san."

Ryuhei watches as the college student saunters off the bathroom confidently, apparently immune to pointed glance or sneers that people thrown on his way.

Oh yes, he will be seeing him soon.

 

***

 

He parks his Audi and after giving himself a once over, he gets out and purposely taking a few steps away before locking the car, ensuring that he catches people attention as he walks inside the night club. He smirks as he can feel their eyes turns green with envy upon his sleek black Audi R8 Spyder, or the mixture of awe, lust, and envy that pierced him because he knows they know just how expensive his Armani clothes – and himself – are. With all the money he actually makes, it's only normal that he lavished himself with such exquisite. And it's a great way of keeping his reputation.

"Hey Jim," he greets the bartender, his longtime friend who also serves as his middle men during his outing. And sometimes, his personal bodyguard. It’s not that Allen can’t defend himself, but Jim is far more intimidating with his muscular build and tattooed arms.

"Hei Len!" Jim greets him cheerfully, quickly serving his favorite Martini. "On the house, as usual."

"You seem very happy," Allen comments. "That much?"

Jim nods. "It's only nine, and I've already got about ten requests for you."

"That's a lot," he says, gulping the whole glass down at once. "Send the highest bidder first, then. The usual room?"

"The way you like it. I'll send them in about fifteen minutes."

Allen only waves his hand as an answer, already half way to the guarded door that would take him to a restricted floor where all the bedrooms are located. Much like any other clubs and bars he frequent, Lucy in the Sky had some sort of unwritten contract with him. He would attract more high profiled customers whenever he's around, and in return they would provide him with the necessary accommodation and sometimes, protection.

Four hours later, he's back in the bar with lighter balls and heavier wallet. In other words, he's satiated. So he takes his time to lounge in one of the secluded couch, enjoying the calm atmosphere. It's one of the reasons why he'd rather hang out in exclusive bars and lounges rather than night clubs, because it allows him to actually relax without being bothered instead of trapping him in a room full of drunken people and racy atmosphere.

"Len."                                                                            

He looks up when Jim calls him, and arches an eyebrow questioningly when he caught sight of the man behind the bartender. It's a young man in his early twenties, with pale white complexion and hints of Caucasian decent, such as prominent cheekbone and sharp jaw. He's a fine man, Allen would admit, liking the lean posture, like the man could easily break. Clearly from a wealthy background, considering how impeccably dressed he is, what’s with the grey vest and navy blue shirt. And from the way he keep averting his eyes, Allen know that this kid is inexperienced. But what piqued his curiosity is how he looks vaguely familiar, as if he saw him before.

Jim leans in and whispers to him, "I know you're done for the night, but I really think you shouldn't miss out on this one. He missed the earlier bid, but he's a potential longtime client."

With a pat in his shoulder, he motioned for the man to sit down and leave the two of them alone. The man keeps his silence and refuse to meet Allen’s eyes, oozing a mixture of nervousness and uncertainty. Yet Allen can see the sorrow in his eyes, and knows that is exactly what drove him here. Lighting a cigarette, Allen takes his time to observe the young man in front of him, enjoying the view while trying to put a finger on his identity while waiting for him to open a conversation. Until it suddenly clicked on his mind.

"I know you," he suddenly says, surprising the man. "You’re a freshman from my college, aren’t you?” The man in front of him shifts uncomfortably, so Allen takes another whiff before asking, "Why are you suddenly looking for my service?"

"I…can’t tell you the reason," he lowly says, a frown marring the beautiful feature and Allen holds back a chuckle.

"Well, like Jim said, I'm actually done for the night. But I guess I could make an exception for my alma mater," he says as he leans back on his chair, twirling his cigarette. "With $500, I could make you forget your problem, whatever it is, for an hour. But I had enough of this club for tonight, so you’ve got to find another place."

"Fine," the man says, standing up and Allen follows suit. "I'll book you for the next two hours then."

"Where?" Allen asks once they're outside. "I brought my car and I'd really hate to leave it here."

The man looks at him in surprise, but nods and says, "Hilton. Meet me at the lobby."

"Sure. Oh, and your name is?"

He stops in front of his car, and quickly mutters, "Marcus," before climbing inside and drive off.

As he drives his own car through Jakarta's night, Allen could feel excitement flows through his veins. He's quite spent, he would admit, for this has been a busy day. But something about Marcus attracts him, and given his standard and way of life, it doesn't happen every day. That's why he smiles when he sees Marcus already waiting for him in the lobby.

"Sorry I made you wait for long," he apologizes, and Marcus shakes his head.

"I’ve reserved the room, let’s go."

 

As they ride the elevator, Allen could see that Marcus is tense. So he starts a conversation to loosen him up. "I'm quite surprised to see you," he admits. “It’s not often that people from college look for me outside.”

"I know," Marcus replies. "That's why I searched for you there."

"Oh, planning to hold your reputation in campus, I see." Allen chuckles, "That's quite a smart move."

Marcus let out a small smile right when they arrived on their designated floor, and Allen follows the younger male to their room. He observes as Marcus takes off his vest and puts in on the chair before sitting down on the bed. His body language screams out the fact that this is new for him, and Allen found that amusing. He always does.

"Is this your first time?" Allen asks. "With a man, I mean."

Marcus tensed. "That's none of your business," he harshly says, and Allen chuckles.

"It is, unfortunately. You're my client, and I need to know how to treat you. Do you want to take it slow, or do you prefer it rough? Would you like to hold control, or are you the submissive type? Do you have any kinks or rule that I have to adhere to?"

Marcus's face is redder than the wine he drank earlier, and Allen can feels excitement that runs south through his blood. It's really been a long time since a client could arouse him simply by being flustered, and Allen revels in this rare feeling, determined to savor every bit of this moment.

"I don't care," Marcus finally says, closing his eyes. "Just make me forget everything."

"As you wish, then," Allen says, taking off his own blazer before sit next to Marcus on the bed. Then, unable to refrain from the temptation, he tilts Marcus's chin and captures his lips in a kiss. It starts out slow, Allen taking his time while also trying to ease the tension around Marcus, before he softly bites Marcus's lips and the younger male complies, giving him access.

He's not one for kisses, Allen would admit, but there's something toxic about Marcus's lips that he can't get enough of. Marcus doesn't seems to mind the gesture, getting just as much pleasure when Allen finally leave his swollen lips to kisses his neck softly. Allen puts his hand on Marcus's waist, resting the other one on the bed when Marcus grips on his back for support while the escort coaxes him to back away.

Marcus is pliant, letting Allen lays him down and get rid of his shirt. He moans when Allen trails butterfly kisses down his chest, but quickly caught himself out of embarrassment.

"It's okay," Allen whispers, stroking the sides of Marcus's torso. "Don’t hold back and just immerse yourself in the pleasure. That's the easiest way to forget."

Marcus takes a deep breath before nodding shakily, earning him a smile and a quick peck on the lips before Allen goes back on burying his face on Marcus's chest, slyly twirling his tongue around Marcus's nipples.

"Ahhh~" Marcus moans, letting Allen knows that he's doing the right thing and Allen applies more pressure, making Marcus goes crazy from the teasing. Holding back a chuckle, Allen goes lower, kissing every part of that white abdomen until he reaches the hip bone.

"Oh," Marcus moans breathlessly when Allen plants open mouth kisses on his hipbone, sucking it with appreciation. "Fuck. Oh, fuck. Ah---"

Allen nuzzles on the bulge in Marcus's jeans, liking Marcus's breathless curse that his ministrations caused. He easily undoes the belt and gets rid of the jeans, leaving only Marcus's boxer to separate him and the tent inside it. He's about to lean down and discards the offending material when Marcus reaches down and grabs his shoulder.

"Clothes off," Marcus pants, and Allen nods with a smirk. Purposely taking his time to take off his t-shirt and jeans teasingly, adoring the flush in Marcus's check and the growing tent in his pants. He himself is hard, he knows, but he pushes the thought to the back of his mind so he can focuses on Marcus instead.

"Fuck," Marcus pants when Allen bites on the hem of his boxer, pulling it down with his teeth. "Ah fuck fuck fuck fuck."

Allen licks Marcus's weeping erection, running his tongue all along the length before sucking on the tip. Slowly, agonizingly, he takes it inside his mouth little by little until his lips touches the balls.

"Oh fuck oh please don't stop," Marcus moans, fisting his hand on Allen's hair as the older male hums and starts sucking. His eyes closed, Marcus misses the way Allen lubricate his fingers with his own precum, positioning them around the younger male's opening.

Allen knows that it would always hurt the first time, no matter how gentle he is. So he distracts Marcus with his tongue, hollowing his cheeks to apply more pressure as he slides the first finger inside the yet to be touched hole.

"FUCK!" Marcus yells, tugging at Allen's hair harshly. Ignoring the pain on his scalp, Allen grazes his teeth against Marcus's cock, turning the angry shout into a pleasured one as he also starts to move his finger.

Allen continues on with sucking Marcus while preparing the older male, sliding in his second finger and waiting for Marcus to get used to it before he starts moving. Marcus moans let him know that the younger is okay, and he roams around the tight hole while nuzzles on Marcus's balls.

"Shit," Marcus curses, feeling himself closing in on his limit and Allen sucks harder, bobbing his head up and down while applying pressure to a sensitive spot. "Ahhfuuck!!"

The moment Marcus come undone in his mouth, Allen puts another two fingers in and Marcus hardly feels the intrusion for he's drowning in pleasure. Allen laps him clean before he moves to Marcus's thighs, leaving marks on the milky skin while he works on stretching Marcus's hole.

"SCHEISSE!" Marcus curses in his mother language when Allen hits a spot that sends his nerve overdrive, and Allen pounds on the spot a few times before pulling his fingers out.

"This will hurt a little," he warns as he kneels on the bed and lifts Marcus's right legs, his dick poised against the Marcus's asshole.

"Fuck me," Marcus breathes out, and Allen licks his lips before probing inside.

"FUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!!" Marcus shouts out loud because it hurts, oh it's so hurts so fucking much despite the earlier preparation and Allen bends down to kisses on his chest once again, distracting him from the pain and foreign feeling of being filled like that. Marcus tugs at Allen's hair, pulling him upwards so he can kiss him senseless. The change of position makes Allen shifts his legs, and Marcus moans into the older man's mouth.

One hand on Marcus's thighs and the other one on the bed for support, Allen start moving in a leisure pace, making sure Marcus can tolerate it before fastening it. When Marcus grips on his shoulder tightly in pleasure, Allen wraps the younger's legs around his waist and moves his hand to Marcus's cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts.

"Angggh, oh fuck, aahhh, don't, ah-- stop, nggh Allen--"

Marcus feels like he's going insane from all the pleasure. It feels so fucking good to have Allen inside him, to feels so deliciously stretches and being so full, to feels Allen's relentless pounds against his prostate, to feels the older's hand around his aching dick. There's nothing but pleasure and the older male's name in his head, and for the first time in a long while, he feels whole.

"Please, ahh please, please, I'm close--" Marcus gasps. "Allen-- please---"

Listening to Marcus's incoherent moans, Allen lifts the younger by the waist and let him claws on his back as he exploits their new position to bounces the younger up and down his cock, accurately hitting his prostate over and over again. With a harsh pound at his prostate and a squeeze on his cock, Marcus comes all over Allen's chest, screaming Allen's name in pure pleasure. And the sound that he made was just too much for Allen because he seconds later he follows suit, filling Marcus's hole with his seeds.

Allen lets Marcus drapes himself over him, catching their breath before he gently lays the younger back down on the bed and   tucks him under the cover. He's about to get off the bed when Marcus caught his hand.

"Stay."

Allen glances at the clock, before saying, "I can stand for another twenty minutes, but that's it."

"It's not a part of my service," he adds almost apologetically and Marcus grits his teeth.

"How much?"

"I'm sorry?"

"If I want to reserve you for the rest of the night, how much would it cost?"

Allen looks at him, stunned, before responding with a, "At this hour? $3500, including earlier service."

Marcus struggles to sit straight, and Allen helps him out of reflexes.

"Thanks," Marcus mutters. "Can you get my phone? It's on my back pocket."

He complies, handing it over to the younger and dictate his bank account number when the younger asks for it.

"There," Marcus says, passing the phone back to Allen.

"It says $4000."

"I know. That's to make sure you don't leave before I do," the younger retorts. "Now get on the bed, I want to sleep."

Allen stares at Marcus, battling with his inner self before surrendering to the temptation of easy money and spending more time with the captivating male.

As Marcus wraps his hands around him and buries his head on Allen's shoulder, it crosses his mind that he can't seem to recall when was the last time he falls asleep with someone on his side. Closing his eyes, Allen takes a deep breath and strokes Marcus's bare back before settling on his waist, giving it a reassuring squeeze before he also dozes off.


End file.
